Lullaby
by Pepsi
Summary: The story of how Harry Potter suddenly turned into a 3 year old and brought out the mother in even the most unexpected of people. Inspired by Boo from Disney's 'Monsters Inc.'. *Ch. 5* in which Ginny finds something in her food and Ron makes a mistake...
1. The potion-explosion

Authors note: I wrote this fic after I'd seen "Monsters.Inc". That little girl was just so adorable ^_^  
  
So that's where I got my inspiration for this fic, if anyone was wondering.  
  
Like always, I apologize for all the spelling mistakes I've probably made, and all the other mistakes I've probably made...  
  
And oh, before I forget:  
  
"I, Pepsi, do *not* own Harry Potter or any characters or places related to the books or the movie. They are all property of J.K.Rowling and Warner Bros. Thank you for your attention!"  
  
I want to ask you to review, but I don't want you to unless you actually like my story and want me to continue. So therefore, I ask you only to review if you like my story and want me to continue!  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter. 1  
  
-The potion-explosion  
  
  
  
//Harry instinctly reached out to cover his eyes. He heard screaming, and the sound of cauldrons being knocked over, as Slytherins and Gryffindors alike ran for safety.//  
  
  
  
Neville Longbottom had done it again...  
  
No sooner had Snape left the classroom (he wouldn't tell why, only that it was urgent and that he had been expecting it to happen, whatever it was, for quite some time now) before Malfoy decided to play a prank on the poor clumsy Gryffindor.  
  
  
  
However, Ron Weasley caught him in the act, and the fight was on! Or rather, *would* have been on, had it not been for the fact that Malfoy had absloutely no intensions of fighting. Especially not with Weasley!  
  
Therefore, he crawled under the table, upon which the cauldron was placed, and reappeared on the other side with a delighted smirk (if ever there was such a thing). Out of reach, even for Weasley's long limbs.  
  
  
  
But, unfortunately for Malfoy, his plan of escape had gotten no further than step. 1, which generally consisted of him being at the opposite side of the table, as far away from Weasley as possible. Genious as though the plan may be, it didn't take Ron very long to figure it out, and soon enough, the *chase* was on!  
  
  
  
And that was when Longbottom (who hadn't really been paying much attention, and had no idea *why*, exactly, the two were running after each other) decided to add the last ingredient to his potion...  
  
  
  
Later, the Gryffindors pointed out that it was really all Malfoy's fault.  
  
  
  
Ron stopped dead in his tracks, and at glacier speed he threw up his hands and shouted: "NO!"  
  
Draco Malfoy did the same, only his choice of words were: "watch out! It's going to blow!"  
  
  
  
Neville stared dumbly at his potion, unable to reach his brain and tell it to make his body move.  
  
Fortunately, there happened to be a hero in the very same room, and as we all know, you don't have to do anything at all when you're faced with danger as long as there's a hero nearby.  
  
  
  
This particular hero was, in fact, none other than the already famous wizard: Harry Potter, who had come face to face with death and destruction and God knows what not many times before.  
  
  
  
Heroes are known to sacrifice themselves in order to save others, which was exactly what this hero did. He threw himself at his paralyzed fellow- student, pushing him out of the way, as the potion exploded.  
  
  
  
Everything happened very fast...  
  
  
  
Harry, who had landed on his back, had no time to roll away as the sticky potion came raining down on his defenceless form.  
  
He instinctly reached out to cover his eyes. He could hear screaming, and the sound of cauldrons being knocked over, as Slytherins and Gryffindors alike ran for safety.  
  
  
  
He felt his robes getting stained with the potion, stick to his hair like glue, and creep down underneath his clothes.  
  
He unintensionally opened his mouth to join the choir of screams, and too late he realised what a stupid decision he had made....  
  
  
  
"Oh dear..." Draco muttered, eyes wide with terror. "I think he's eating it..."  
  
Suddenly, Ron grabbed him by the collar and pushed him forcefully up against the wall.  
  
"Look what you've done!" he sneered trough gritted teeth. "If Harry's hurt because of you, I swear I'll-"  
  
He was cut off when Lavender Brown shrieked in her shrill glass-shattering voice: "he disappeared!!!"  
  
  
  
Ron released his grip and spun around. Draco fell to the floor, rubbing his throath, while at the same time staring curiously out trough the forest of feet, hoping to catch a glimpse of the boy who wasn't there.  
  
  
  
For he had, indeed, disappeared...  
  
  
  
Where there had been a beautiful raven-haired boy, only seconds ago, choking on some unknown, possibly dangerous potion, there was now a heap of lifeless clothes.  
  
  
  
The students stared at it in perplex bewilderment. Silence had crept upon them. That kind of silence you can touch and feel and hear and taste and see, when everybody tries to think of something to say and nobody succeeds...  
  
  
  
But then, suddenly, the heap began to stir!  
  
A tiny head poked out from the center, taking in it's surroundings with large emerald eyes, and a curiousity usually found in puppies or kittens.  
  
  
  
It was a child...  
  
  
  
A child with way too much hair. Black and messy, with a tint of purple, that looked like it had never seen a pair of scissors. A child with a scar, shaped like a bolt of lightning etched into its forehead...  
  
  
  
Nobody moved a muscle. They all knew what they *thought* they saw, but weren't quite sure whether they believed it.  
  
  
  
The child, however, took no notice, as he struggled to untangle himself from the heap of over-sized clothes. This was indeed a very difficult task, not easily done by a three-year old, who also happened to be a bit small for his age.  
  
  
  
The students, who were all standing crammed up against a wall, stared at him with shock and disbelief, unable to take their eyes off him. Suddenly, he sneezed, in a very cute child-like way, and everybody snapped out of the trance.  
  
  
  
Lavender Brown was the first to speak. Although 'speak' might not be a very accurate description of what she did. "Harry?!!!" she shrieked, in her usual shrill voice, tightening her grip on Parvati Patil's robes.  
  
"Well, er, that sure was unexpected..." Seamus Finnigan said meekly, scratching his neck thoughtfully.  
  
  
  
"Malfoy?" Ron hissed softly, "what, praytell, did you put in that potion?" He had gotten a very dangerous expression on his freckly face. But before Malfoy could answer, Pansy Parkinson surprised them all by giggling. "Aww... Look how cute he is! Isn't he adorable?" The rest of the students quickly chimed in, and soon forgot all about the potion-explosion.  
  
  
  
Draco Malfoy put on his usual trademark smirk and stepped boldly forward, kneeling down by the heap. The others followed him, careful to keep at a safe distance.  
  
  
  
The little boy had long since given up on untangling himself, and decided it was much more entertaining to crawl through the clothes. Pointless perhaps, but fun, none the less. It was like a dark soft labyrinth.  
  
But suddenly, the world was turned upside-down and he tumbled out of the dark tunnel and down onto the cold potion-stained floor.  
  
  
  
Draco Malfoy threw the black robes carelessly aside, and stared curiously at the adorable little creature, who giggled excitedly and tugged a lock of his thick dark hair. He was wearing a pair of black boxers and a black T- shirt. Both were too big for him now, of course, but for some strange reason they hadn't fell off.  
  
  
  
He looked at them with innocent curiousity, while playing idly with his hair.  
  
"Cha-la-la-la" he said, looking very serious indeed.  
  
Everybody laughed, even the Slytherins. The girls found they couldn't restrain themselves any longer, and sat down to cuddle with the adorable little boy. Though no one would admit it, especially not the Slytherins, they were all quite relieved to find Potter alive. A bit different perhaps, but alive.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Snape pinched the bridge of his over-sized nose and shook his head slowly. Of all the possible mistakes....! Why was it that he had to work with such imbesiles? Of course, he had been expecting it to happen. Oh yes, ever since the very first day he had gotten wind of it, he had known it could only lead to trouble...  
  
  
  
It will come as surprise to none that this considered one of Hagrid's new pets...  
  
  
  
He had gotten quite a few more over the summer, no less terrifying than the others, of course. It was a mystery how that man kept up with those *things* he called pets. And, judging by the looks of it, the mystery was not about to be solved anytime soon.  
  
  
  
This time, one of them had somehow managed to turn one of the others into a canary. McGonagall had tried to transfigure it back to normal (though 'normal' might be a bit rich...!), but it seemed transfiguration was not the answer.  
  
  
  
"And where do we turn when tranfiguration fails?" he muttered to himself, "let's try a potion! Let's go bug prof. Snape, shall we?"  
  
He knew he had made a mistake, leaving his own house alone with the Gryffindors. But, mistake or not, it would be fun to see what kind of mess those little rascals had made this time. He was already looking forward to give Potter detention for.... ah, two weeks? Three?  
  
  
  
He found the lack of screams slightly disappointing as he entered the dungeons But disappointment soon turned into surprise as he, slowly, aproached the door which lead to the potion-classroom and his ears caught the sweet sound of... laughter?!  
  
  
  
Careful not to make a sound, he gave the door a gentle push, just enough to create a small gap, and peered trough it.  
  
  
  
He wasn't quite sure what he'd expected. All he knew was that the sight that greeted him was not one of them...  
  
  
  
The entire class, Gryffindors as well as Slytherins were gathered around Draco Malfoy. He was standing in the middle, with something that looked strangely like pride on his face, and something that looked strangely like a child in his arms.  
  
  
  
Snape moisted his lips, straightened his robes and made a quiet entrÃ©e. He walked up to the teacher's desk and sat down behind it, with his hands neatly folded in front of him. Nobody noticed him, as they were too busy cuddling with the child Malfoy was holding.  
  
  
  
It was a strange thing to see them like this...  
  
Gryffindors and Slytherins together, laughing and smiling, forgetting all about their differences and their previous fights...  
  
Such a strange thing...  
  
  
  
He sighed slowly. This could be interesting...  
  
  
  
He cleared his voice as loudly as he could manage, attempting to reclaim the attention which was rightfully his. He succeeded.  
  
Silence spread trough the body of students like a fire through a dry lawn...  
  
Their heads turned in unison, and he was pleased to see their terrified expressions, each one looking like a deer caught in the front lights.  
  
  
  
"I have two questions," he said calmly. "One: where is Potter? And two: where does that child come from?"  
  
  
  
Nobody spoke. They exchanged desperate looks. First they glanced at each other, then at the child, and then back to each other again. Obviously trying to come up with a really good excuse. Judging by the looks of it, this would have to be an exceptionally good one...  
  
  
  
"Well," Snape said impatiently, "I'm waiting." The look on his face suggested that he might as well have added: 'people die when I have to wait...!'  
  
  
  
Finally, Hermione Granger took an insecure step forward. "Umh... you see, professor, Neville's cauldron exploded, and the p-potion sort of..."  
  
"Exploded..." Ron finished meekly. "Malfoy put something in it," he added quickly.  
  
"And then Potter threw himself at Longbottom to save him, or something, and he got, like, all the potion in his mouth!" said Pansy Parkinson. "He probably swallowed half of it."  
  
"And then he sort of disappeared," Lavender Brown chimed in, "only, he didn't. He was there all the time, inside his clothes."  
  
  
  
"He was, was he?" said Snape in mock facination.  
  
  
  
"Yes, and when Draco turned the robes upside-down, *this* fell out," Blaise Zabini finished, pointing a thumb at the little boy. "We, er, believe it's Potter."  
  
  
  
Little Harry Potter, however, remained oblivious to everything that was happening around him. He was a bit curious at this new creature at first, but soon lost interest in it.  
  
"Dwayco Maphoy!" he said happily and clapped his little hands.  
  
Draco's eyes widened, and his face brightened up like a sun when the dark clouds withdraw. Every thought of Snape, as well as the fact that this was really all his fault, vanished from his mind.  
  
  
  
"He said my name..." he whispered in disbelief. "Hey, hey, hey, he said my name!" Quicker than you could blink and say 'cookie' everybody's attention was once again directed at the child. "Come on, make him say it again!"  
  
  
  
"Dwayco Maphoy," said Harry, and glanced at his audience with large innocent eyes.  
  
  
  
"There, there! Did you hear that?! He said my name!" Draco looked like he had just been granted all the treasures in the world. The students clapped excitedly and began to talk in equally excited voices all at once, so that noone could actually hear what anyone was saying.  
  
  
  
"Enough!" Snape shouted. Everybody stopped talking at the same time.  
  
  
  
"I'm going to have to take 'Potter' to the hospital wing, to see if we can fix this up. In the meantime, I want you to clean up this mess," he made a swishing hand motion towards the potion-stained floor.  
  
  
  
"Dwayco Maphoy!" Harry said, and giggled happily, while tugging his hair.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Authors note: so what do you think? 


	2. In the hospital wing...

[Authors note: Wow! I didn't know it was possible to get that many reviews on one single chapter! I got more reviews than I could've possibly imagined in my wildest dreams! Oh my God, I love you all so incredibly much, you have no idea!!! I thought I'd get, like, maybe a few...  
  
This chapter got out awfully late, I know. Sorry about that, but my PC broke down (it always does).  
  
I'll tell you this though, this chapter is absolutely horrible. I honestly don't know what I was thinking when I wrote this...  
  
I would love to get as many reviews as I got on the first chapter, but I still won't ask you to review unless you actually like what I've written, and this chapter is truly awful...  
  
I won't be able to read my reviews before about two weeks or something, because I'm going on a holiday (the easter holiday from Hell, I might add), but I'm already looking forward to read them! Especially if I get as many as I got last time!  
  
Enjoy ^_^  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter. 2  
  
-In the hospital wing...  
  
  
  
"Well," said Madam Pomfrey, in a wanted-to-be-serious type of voice, as she clapped her hands together and turned to her audience, which consisted mainly of teachers, and a couple of students (three students, to be exact, but we'll get back to that), who was staring at her with quiet anticipation.  
  
  
  
"After a serious examination," she began, "we have been able to draw certain conclutions..." She decided to pause at this point, just to create a dramatic effect. She *lived* for these dramatic moments. She was an *actress*, for pity's sake! How could they be so blind not to see it? Her fiery passion, her talent, her-  
  
Someone in the back coughed, and the misunderstood actress realised she'd made her dramatic pause slightly too long.  
  
"We know that he is about three years old," she continued quickly. "We know that he is in good shape. There's nothing physically wrong with him, and it seems the only thing the potion did to him was make him younger... Which is a good thing," she added, to those who were a bit slow on the uptake.  
  
  
  
They were in the hospital wing.  
  
  
  
Madam Pomfrey had been quite surprised to say the least when Draco Malfoy (if, perhaps, a bit reluctant) handed her the child and told her who it was.  
  
Her eyes grew wider and wider, while her eyebrows sunk lower and lower, as Snape explained to her in a hurried mutter what had happened. By the time he was finished, her eyes were roughly the size of small dinner plates with a pair of black,bushy forests neatly placed overhead.  
  
  
  
No one had been surprised when Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger (the first two, of the three, students who were listening to Madam Pomfrey) were allowed to come with Snape. After all, they were Harry's best friends, and it was, sort of, their duty to be there. Which made it seem even stranger than it usually would have seemed when Draco Malfoy (the third student, as if you hadn't already guessed) was allowed to come along, and stranger still, that he actually *wanted* to...  
  
  
  
This was partly because he insisted on carrying the child all the way up by himself, and partly because little Harry had fallen asleep in his arms and no one was very keen on waking him up.  
  
  
  
Nevertheless, Madam Pomfrey found herself falling completely in love with the little boy (for all you perverts out there who just got a real grose image in your head: I didn't mean it like that!). She thought he was absolutely adorable, and didn't let a moment pass without cuddling with him, or telling him, in a ridiculous Im-talking-to-a-baby-so-therefore-I- must-speak-like-one kind of voice, just how cute he was.  
  
  
  
She never imagined how difficult it would be turning him back to normal. Even without her persistent, and rather annoying, inner voice, which kept telling her to keep Harry as a baby for as long as possible ("that way, I could watch him so that he doesn't run into trouble and gets himself hurt, like he always does.").  
  
After some trying and failing, some more trying and some more failing, she realised that it might not be such an easy task after all, and that it might require some time, and furthermore some help!  
  
  
  
Prof. McGonagall had been summoned right away, of course, being head of Gryffindor and all, and Snape hadn't been allowed to leave, so they made quite the merry gathering up there in the hospital wing.  
  
However, neither of them were able to come up with a reasonable explanation of what might have happened, and how they might proceed in order to reverse the effect.  
  
None of the three would ever admit it to each other, but the truth was that they had all been rather taken with the little miracle, and that they, sort of, wanted him to stay that way for a while.  
  
  
  
Eventually, the only idea they'd come up with was to go fetch Dumbledore.  
  
Unfortunately, Dumbledore was not in his office at that moment, and Ron, on the verge of panicking (is 'verge' even a word at all?), decided instead he'd go fetch as many of the other teachers as he could find in as short amount of time as possible, which turned out to be quite a few more teachers than he'd expected...  
  
  
  
In the eman time, Madam Pomfrey had put little Harry in one of the vacant beds, along with all the soft blankets and fluffy pillows she could spare, in order for the little one to fall asleep. But it seemed he was in no mood to fall asleep. At least not anywhere that wasn't Draco Malfoy's arms.  
  
He'd been a little suspicious about the new faces at first, but after a while he'd decided he quite approved of them and began to giggle and speak incomprehensive words at a furious speed.  
  
  
  
For some reason, the only distinguishable word, which he, for some *other* reason, kept repeating, was: "Dwaycoh Maphoy!"  
  
  
  
"Why does he keep *saying* that?" asked Ron trough gritted teeth, as he directed a particulary hateful scowl at the pale Slytherin, who, in return, raised a perfect (possibly plucked) eyebrow and smiled innocently (or rather, as innocently as it was possible for him to smile with one eyebrow raised).  
  
"Because he *likes* me," Draco said, in an awfully annoying way which clearly suggested that, in *his* opinion, everyone who didn't agree with him were idiots, and that it was, in any case, quite obvious that he was infallible.  
  
Ron, who happened to be one of these particular 'idiots', clenched his fists, but said nothing. He might have been an idiot seen from Draco's point of view, but, in spite of what he might think himself, Draco was *not* infallible, and Ron was, indeed, no fool. In fact he was quite clever. Clever enough to avoid fighting in the hospital wing with all the teachers present, anyway.  
  
  
  
Hermione sent him a disaproving look. She couldn't believe how her befreckled friend could think of anything besides Harry at a time like this.  
  
  
  
In the mean time, the beforementioned little boy was sitting upright in his bed, among the many pillows, staring curiously at all the teachers with his large, emerald eyes. For obvious reasons, they had all been just as fascinated with him as everybody else, and none of them quite seemed to be able to take their eyes off him.  
  
  
  
"So the question now is," Madam Pomfrey continued, "what we're supposed to do with him in the mean time, until we find a cure."  
  
  
  
"Oh, I don't reckon that will be necessary," came a voice from the door opening, and headmaster Dumbledore stepped dramatically out of the shadows. Well, he never actually *intended* to make a dramatic entrÃ©e, but that's how it is when you wear long robes.  
  
"Dwaycoh Maphoy!" little Harry said, and giggled happily while tugging a lock of his thick dark hair.  
  
"And hello to you too, Harry," Dumbledore chuckled. "I haven't seen you like this in quite a while, now."  
  
He quickly became aware of that every head in the room were turned in his direction, and that each of these heads wore equally surprised and questioning expressions on their faces. He decided an explanation was needed.  
  
  
  
"I think we should let Harry's body cure itself," he said, and lifted the little boy up in his surprisingly strong arms (after all, bowling is one of his hobbies...). Harry began to chirp cheerfully about something in a language only he could understand, while playing with Dumbledore's long, white beard, which he found incredibly interesting.  
  
"He did swallow a potion, did he not?" Dumbledore continued, seemingly unbothered by the little boy. "It is bound to come out sooner or later, and while we're waiting, perhaps the students could watch him?"  
  
  
  
The teachers exchanged aproving nods, and seemed to like the idea. It was, after all, the *only* idea anyone had been able to think of in almost two hours, and they felt they were quite ready to accept just about *any* idea.  
  
"Oh, what a wonderful idea!" Madam Pomfrey said. "I think that would be a nice experience for them. To learn how to take care of a child. Perhaps they'd stop running around getting themselves in trouble all the time, then."  
  
  
  
At this moment, Hermione grabbed Ron's hand. She whispered something to him, before quickly raising her hand, as though she was still in class.  
  
"Yes, miss Granger?"  
  
"Us, me and Ron I mean, we could watch Harry."  
  
Again, each head in the room turned to look at Dumbledore, who didn't notice because Harry had chosen that moment to take off his half-moon spectacles and hit him in the face with them. Not maliciously, it just seemed to him like a really good idea (which it was, for reasons still undiscovered by modern Western science. So, naturally, I don't know these reasons either).  
  
  
  
Dumbledore removed his spectacles gently from the child's small hand, glanced briefly at his audience, looked at the little one who was pouting his lips, realised everyone was looking at him and directed his attention back to the audience (all this happened in a very short time, or at least much shorter than it looks like when you write it down). He coughed. "Sorry, what?"  
  
  
  
"Miss Granger asked you if it would be allright if she and young mr. Weasley here could watch little Harry Potter," said prof. McGonagall helpfully, but not without a slight disaproval in her voice (in fact, she rarely spoke without that slight disaproval in her voice. She just happened to be that sort of woman and couldn't help it anymore than Harry could help being related to aunt Petunia).  
  
  
  
"Why, of course. Certainly," Dumbledore said absentmindedly, with his gaze focused on the little boy. "I expected they would. Classes are over for today anyway, so you might as well begin your lesson in baby sitting right away."  
  
  
  
Hermione looked like she wanted to say something, but before she'd uttered a sound, a drawling voice from the corner asked politely: "excuse me, headmaster, but I would very much like to help mr.Weasley and miss Granger."  
  
Later, everyone who had been in the room at that moment admitted they couldn't have been more surprised if prof. Snape had suddenly proclaimed he was engaged to the queen of England.  
  
Prof. McGonagall looked at him as though he'd just grown another head and turned green all at once. An expression quite similar to that on everybody else's faces. Well, except Dumbledore's (because Dumbledore is never surprised by anything, because he already knows everything), and little Harry's (because he didn't understand what they were saying, or at least he didn't care).  
  
"Would you like that Harry?" asked the old headmaster, obviously struggling not to burst out laughing. "Three baby sitters? What do you think of that?"  
  
"Dwaycoh Maphoy!" Harry shrieked happily, while clapping his little hands in excitement.  
  
Dumbledore chuckled, "I'll take that as a 'yes', then." He turned to Draco. "Well, it seems to be allright by him."  
  
"I am delighted to hear that," Draco said smugly, with a beautifully nasty look at Ron, who in turn looked like he wanted to kill someone (preferably Draco Malfoy, but you already knew that).  
  
  
  
"Aww, come *on*-" he began, but no one was listening to him.  
  
  
  
"Albus," whispered prof. McGonagall in a low-pitched voice. "Please re- think your decisions now. Are you sure it would be... prudent... to let young mr. Malfoy-" "Minerva, I am absolutely confident with my decisions. Now, children," he said, and turned to the three students (Ron was clenching his fists, pretending it was Malfoy's throath. Hermione had layed a hand on his shoulder to keep him from turning his dreams into reality, and Malfoy was standing at a safe distance sticking out his tongue at the hot-headed Gryffindor.)  
  
  
  
"I'm entrusting you a big responsibility," he said, as he put the little child carefully in Draco Malfoy's arms with a meaningful look. Harry, who instantly recognized the spiteful Slytherin, yawned peacefully and closed his eyes, as if getting ready for a nap.  
  
"Be back before 1900 hours," Madam Pomfrey chimed in, before turning to the teacher staff. "Sho, sho, off you go," she said. "I've got work to do, and if I'm not much mistaken then so do you."  
  
  
  
"Now, Severus," said Dumbledore quietly to the potion-master as they walked out of the infarmary, "what do you reckon will be the outcome of this?"  
  
Snape was quiet for a moment (not his usual quietness, which tended to make people think of ice and snow and big, hairy beasts with too many sharp fangs which likes to hide in high grass and not flex a muscle until something soft and tender walks by), but an odd thoughtfulness, as though he was actually thinking... (enjoy it boys & girls, you won't be witnessing too many of these moments!)  
  
"I think..." he said slowly, "that you have made a wise decision."  
  
They continued to walk in silence, and no more was said between them. Snape didn't see the twinkle in the old headmaster's bright blue eyes...  
  
  
  
  
  
In the mean time...  
  
"I can't believe they're letting you near him!" Ron looked like he was just about ready to explode (but that might just be his hair, what do I know). He was staring at Draco with the same expression The Alien usually gets whenever it spots Sigourney Weaver.  
  
Draco was staring back with the same expression he always got whenever he was near Weasley, Granger or Potter (or all three of them at once). Well, almost the same expression, anyway. He was looking awfully smug at the moment, and he usually didn't look very smug whenever he was near any member of the beforementioned posse (unless he'd just caused one of them some serious trouble, of course, or just avoided getting into any himself).  
  
"Because, Weasley," he said slowly, as if he was explaining the facts of nature to a 4 year old, "they happen to *like* me."  
  
  
  
The three freshly appointed baby sitters were still on their way (on their very *slow* way, I might add) out of the hospital wing. But just because they hadn't gotten very far, it didn't mean they hadn't learned a thing or two during these few, short seconds together...  
  
  
  
They had, per example, realised how much they actually disliked each other. They had realised that Draco refused to let anyone but him hold the child, and that this annoyed Ron greatly. They had realised that Ron was having a bad day today, that Harry could speak incomprehensive words continiously for almost two minutes without drawing breath, and several other interesting things.  
  
  
  
In other words: this was turning out to be a bit more complicated than expected, but nevertheless, rather interesting, and definetly informative.  
  
  
  
"Yeah, you wish!" Ron muttered, but Draco didn't hear him.  
  
  
  
Outside they were met with a body of curious students who had been standing right outside all the time with their ears pressed against the door to hear what was being said on the other side.  
  
  
  
All the students instantly began to chatter all at once, which is exactly what students always do, because it's in their nature, sort of. Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan made good use of their elboes, knees and other body parts as they made their way over to the three baby sitters, and the baby.  
  
  
  
"Is he going to be allright?" asked Dean, slightly short of breath. Hermione nodded. "Yeah, they're going to let him cure himself, sort of," Ron broke in. "And, in the mean time, we're his baby sitters!" "That's great!" Seamus said with a broad mischiveous grin, "you can teach him about the important things in life, before some pesky teacher stuffs his poor little head full of lies!"  
  
  
  
"Yeah, wouldn't that be fun..." Ron muttered darkly. "But the thing is,"he paused to throw a nasty glance in Draco's direction, "that we're not the *only* baby sitters..." Seamus raised an eye-brow and traced Ron's glance with his eyes. They stopped at Draco. Who was, indeed, holding the little raven haired boy in his arms, and was looking exceptionally pleased with himself. Something dawned to him...  
  
"You don't mean...?"  
  
His unfinished question was answered by a nod, and the red head was looking more sombre than ever. "Yup. We'll probably be too busy keeping him alive to learn him anything at all."  
  
  
  
Draco Malfoy knew they were talking about him. But frankly, he couldn't care less. He looked at the little boy in his arms with a strange softness in his pale eyes and a small smile crept unintentionally upon his lips. Harry had almost fallen asleep again, and didn't even seem to notice that everyone was staring at him (the truth was that he *did* notice that they were looking at *something*, but he'd looked *everywhere* without finding *anything* interesting to look at, and couldn't figure out for the life of him what they were staring at that was so incredibly interesting. Of course, nobody knew this, and therefore kept staring).  
  
  
  
Draco quite enjoyed all the attention he was getting. Not that he didn't always enjoy being the center of attention, but this was a bit out of the ordinary, and therefore it was more enjoyable. The students were not as surprised as one might think to see Harry in his current condition (after all, each of these students had the power and ability to turn a hedgehog into one of those little pillows where you put your needles, and it took alot to actually surprise them), but to see him in Draco Malfoy's *arms*...! That was something!  
  
  
  
"Aww, he's so cute!" said a blond girl from Hufflepuff (Hannah Abbot, as a matter of fact, but Draco didn't know that, because the Slytherins didn't take any classes together with the Hufflepuffs). "But," she looked curiously at Draco, "why are *you* holding him? I thought you two were enemies."  
  
Draco shrugged (or at least he made it very clear that if he'd been able to he would have shrugged. It was a bit difficult when he was holding a baby). "We are," he said simply, before turning to his two cronies, Crabbe and Goyle, who he, for some reason, knew was standing behind him.  
  
  
  
He opened his mouth to tell them something, though he wasn't quite sure what this might be, but shut it abruptly again when he noticed out of the corner of his eye that Granger and Weasley were advancing on him. He was standing in the middle of a very large crowd of students who were all marvelling over the adorable little wonder in his arms (who used to be the world famous Harry Potter, and still was, only it wasn't quite the same), and therefore a bit difficult to reach.  
  
  
  
On a sudden impulse he cleared his throath loudly and told everyone to make way for the other two baby sitters (later, he'd often lay awake at night, twisting and turning in his bed while wondering where that impulse had come from. Sadly, he never found out...).  
  
  
  
Ron eyed him suspiciously, but said nothing.  
  
  
  
"Er, maybe we should find him some clothes?" Hermione suggested, glancing uncomfortably at the students, who had stopped talking and were now watching the three (or rather six, if you count Crabbe, Goyle and Harry) in the middle. "You know, in his size."  
  
  
  
Draco held Harry up and contemplated him skeptically. The little boy giggled excitedly (he seems to be doing that alot, huh? Oh well, he's a happy baby ^_^ ). His clothes were way too big for him, but fitted better than you'd expected, since Harry had never been a very big, burly boy. "Yeah, I suppose we should..."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
I wish to thank all my reviewers! You have no idea how much each review is aprechiated! Some of you said some things I'd like to correct you on, and some of you had questions. They have been answered or corrected here:  
  
(Lil Nami: BIG thank you to my first reviewer!) (pseudonym: thank you! And don't worry, if I get this many wonderful reviews each chapter, I'll definetly keep writing!) (arabian13: thank you! And you must remember that the Slytherins are also human. They're just kids. And believe me, I've seen people around babies, they're totally different and oh-so nice and sweet and 'aww'-ing and 'ooh'-ing all the time. It's really weird, the effect babies have on us...) (Lady FoxFire: thank you! Why nobody has baby Harry run around naked? Well, probably because they're afraid of being thought of as... ah, what's it called when you're sexually attracted to children? In my case, however, it's mostly because I wanted to share my opinion of Harry's choice of underwear with the world.) (Kugel: thank you! There are many of them? Oh, I didn't know that... I hope I'm not copying anything, because I don't mean to.) (Katherine aka Star: thank you for reviewing and thank you for your suggestions! I'll see what I can do!) (Aziraphael: thank you! I just had to add you here, because I am currently reading "Good omens" by Terry Pratchett myself. Read it boys and girls! You'll laugh like hell!) (sarah: thank you! And like I said, I had no idea there were other stories like this out there, and I'm so sorry if I stole somebody else's idea.) (Gil-Celeb: you reviewed twice, thank you so much, I'm flattered *blushes* I hope you liked this chapter as much as the first!) (siljin: thank you! Overused plot? I need to stay in more, and read fanfics... I honestly had no idea there were other stories like this. Well, actually there is a story with Draco turning into a baby, I read it a while ago, I think it's called "Draco's baby boom", but I can't remember for the life of me who wrote it. And I found one fic where Snape is turned into a teenager, but I don't remember the title of it, let alone who wrote it. Sorry, I'm a Harry worshipper *shrugs*) (Tess: thank you to my Norwegian e-pal!)  
  
  
  
There, second chapter, what do you think? Should I continue? 


	3. Cruel intentions

[Authors note: Firstly, I feel I ought to apoligize for using an idea someone has already used before me (although I had no idea when I first started writing, of course), but I will, nevertheless, continue, and I'll try and make my story special and worth reading!  
  
Secondly, thank you thank you thank you thank you (yes, I know I should have drawn my breath by now, but since I am only writing this on my computer I feel it is irrelevant to you whether I breath or not) thank you thank you, and bonus: THANK YOU!!!!! I got so many nice reviews, you wouldn't believe it! I've glued them to my wall over my bed, so I can read them before I go to sleep ^_^  
  
Many of you wanted to know why Harry couldn't talk when he was, after all, three years old (well, not asked exactly... it was more like they directed my attention to it, and told me I was wrong), and I feel I shall have to explain myself. The truth, which I would like you to believe in, is that Harry *can* talk, only he talks so fast that no one can actually make out the words he's saying (I never said he couldn't talk properly, I only said that nobody else could comprehend it. There's a difference!). The actual truth, which I do not want you to believe in (but you can if you like, of course), is that Boo, from "Monters.Inc", didn't. I couldn't remember if she was two or three years old when I began writing, so I said Harry was *about* three years old. 'About' as in 'cirka', in other words.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter. 3  
  
-Cruel intensions  
  
  
  
The other students were very helpful. Especially the Gryffindors. They disappeared, and came back after a few minutes loaded with most of Dennis Creevy's wardrobe, since he was the only one who was small enough.  
  
  
  
After yet a few more minutes, little Harry Potter was dressed in a small baby blue T-shirt and a pair of very old (not to mention very small) jeans. However, despite the small size, they were still way too big for the little boy.  
  
  
  
"Look, isn't he cute?" Parvati said, holding him up so that everyone could see him. She'd been put in charge of dressing him up, since Hermione had a fashion sense like a great-great-grandmother. And Lavender Brown hadn't been allowed to come near him because of what she might unintentionally do to his ears if she got an opportunity to squeal. Pansy Parkinson was out of the picture, along with all the other Slytherin girls, because two of the baby sitters didn't aprove of them (you can only guess who *those* two were...). The third baby sitter (the one who *did* aprove of the Slytherin girls, or at least didn't say he didn't aprove of them) didn't aprove of the Hufflepuff girls, because he thoguht they were too clumsy to handle a baby, and was afraid of what they might (unintentionally, of course) do to him if they were allowed to touch him. The Ravenclaws were also disaproved of because none of the baby sitters knew them that well, and didn't feel like entrusting the responsibility of dressing up their best friend (and worst enemy) to someone they didn't know. That left the Gryffindors, but we've been trough them already and we all know how it went. Anyway, the point is that Parvati got to dress him up.  
  
  
  
"Yes, he looks adorable," Hermione agreed, as she gently took the child in her own arms. "Bet he'll have a fit though, when he hears you've seen him naked," Seamus said, looking very thoughtful indeed (which he wasn't, because he was just pretending).  
  
  
  
Suddenly, two redheads, identical down to the last freckle (and there were plenty of freckles) appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, with broad identical grins on their identical faces. "Well, well, well, either my ears are betraying me..." began the first one (who was named Fred Weasley, if you *must* know). "Along with my eyes..." continued the other (who was, naturally, named George Weasley). "Or is that really Harry Potter you're holding there?" Fred finished, with a grin that suggested he already knew which one was the correct answer, and was utterly delighted by it.  
  
  
  
"Er, well, yeah... This is Harry," Hermione said with a slow sigh, slightly surprised that the two hadn't showed up earlier.  
  
Fred contemplated the little boy with amusement written all over his freckly face. "Hi there, Harry" he said, and bent down to get in eye-level with the little one. Wether Harry recognized him or not was forever unknown. If he did, he hid it well. He stared at his quidditch houseteam mate with big innocent eyes, looking almost shy. "You look so different," Fred said, "have you shrinked?" George quickly joined him, "you look ten years younger, my boy!"  
  
  
  
"Can he talk?" they asked Hermione. A brilliant idea was beginning to form in their identical minds (I'll get back to that, someday)... Before she could nod, little Harry giggled and said "Dwaycoh Maphoy!"  
  
  
  
The twins raised two identical eyebrows in a part questioning, part terrified expression. "S'cuse me," Fred began. "Come again," said George, who didn't realise he was supposed to finish the sentence with '-what did he just say?!.'  
  
Hermione sighed again (she didn't find this whole mess quite as amusing as everone else seemed to do) and there was definitly an edge to her voice as she replied, "he says that all the time. We don't know why, but he won't stop."  
  
  
  
"It's because he *likes* me," said a drawling voice matter-of-factly from somewhere behind them, sounding as though he was merely stating the obvious. The twins turned to find (surprise surprise) Draco Malfoy standing with his arms crossed, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle, and looking exceptionally snotty and arrogant (which was saying something...!).  
  
  
  
"Aww man!" Fred groaned, accompanied by his brother. "What's *he* doing here?"  
  
  
  
"*I* am the third baby sitter," Draco answered quickly, before anyone else could. "That's right," he added, as he saw their dumbfounded expressions, "I am legally in charge of him," he pointed his thumb at the baby, "Dumbledore appointed me himself, and there's *nothing* you can do about it!"  
  
  
  
The twins scowled darkly at him. None of the Weasleys were too fond of anyone who's last name was 'Malfoy'. In fact, very few people were.  
  
  
  
Fred smiled sadly and put on an expression much like an actor who is about to try and win an Oscar. "Oh well," he said shakily, obviously trying to hold back imaginary tears. "When our dear, dear little Harry," he paused to wipe a tear (which wasn't really there) away from the corner of his eye, before he added softly: "who we all love so very much." Fred blew his nose (or pretended to, anyway). "When he dies in your arms, Draco Malfoy, in *your* arms, you mark my word, we shall remember what you said... We shall carry on with our lives, knowing we could have prevented it from happening... But, by doing *nothing*, like you just now told us to, we did not act..."  
  
He paused again, but this time Draco broke him off before he could add more to his tear-dripping speech (which would, indeed, have won him an Oscar if he had been an actor). "Enough already!" he said. "And I'm *not* going to kill him," he added to the other students, who were now eyeing him suspiciously.  
  
  
  
In the mean time, Harry was starting to get bored. Hermione held him perfectly still, and was too busy watching the twins to talk to him. She didn't smell very interesting either, allthough she did have an impressive hair do. However, he had a strong feeling he'd get his hand stuck if he tried to play with it.  
  
He yawned to demonstrate his boredom, and began to play with his own hair instead. Which he got equally bored with after about ten seconds.  
  
  
  
Suddenly, a pink bubble appeared before him with a small 'pop', seemingly out of thin air, and floated slowly upwards, obviously heading for the ceiling with an admirable determination, though at the speed of a particulary fast snail.  
  
  
  
Harry giggled and reached out a small hand to try and catch it. His excitement increased as his hand went straight trough it, and he looked like he was wearing a pink fish bowl for a glove. He closed his eyes for a moment.  
  
  
  
'pop'  
  
'pop'  
  
'pop'  
  
  
  
Instantly, three more bubbles appeared. They too out of seemingly nothing. He stared at them in awe. Noticing with a slight interest that he could see his own reflection on the pink, glossy surface. The bubble on his hand bursted with a disappointingly small 'pop'. He had sort of hoped for an explosion. After all, it had been a pretty big bubble...  
  
But he soon forgot all about it as new bubbles kept appearing.  
  
  
  
By this time, some of the other students were bound to notice. Despite what you might think, the first to notice the bubbles was *not* Hermione. It was (quite unfortunately, I might add) Lavender Brown...  
  
Lavender Brown has an amazing and no doubt rather fascinating voice. Nevertheless it is very loud, and one gets the feeling that this girl could shatter glass (not to mention ear-drums) if she wanted to.  
  
"What's that?" she asked, in a voice which for once sounded almost normal, pointing at the bubbles. Several heads turned in unison to see what 'that' was.  
  
  
  
"It's... bubbles, I think," Hannah said (such a bright young girl, isn't she? Let's give her a cookie). "Harry is making them, " she added (alright, two cookies then).  
  
  
  
"Oh my, that means he's showing his first signs of magic!" Hermione said, sounding slightly more excited this time. "Harry, that's great!"  
  
  
  
Harry giggled, but stopped abruptly as he realised everyone was looking at him. The bubbles disappeared as suddenly and silently as they'd appeared, and Harry was tugging his thick black hair innocently as though nothing had happened.  
  
  
  
"Wonder what else he can do," Fred mused, mostly to himself, while biting his bottom lip thoughtfully. "Maybe we could make him turn Malfoy into a frog?" George suggested. "Yeah, and then we could keep him in a glass jar until Harry grows up," Fred said with increasing excitement, "and when he does we'll make him kiss it and turn it back to Malfoy again!" A few of the Gryffindors cheered in the back ground.  
  
  
  
Draco's pale grey eyes narrowed, and he considered for a moment to ask Crabbe and Goyle to beat up the twins, but quickly discarded the idea. If everyone was watching there was no way he'd get away with it. That sort of ruined the fun...  
  
  
  
"Or maybe not," he said, with a voice that could've turned the depths of Hell into an ice-skating rink. "And besides," he added, "Prince charming's kiss will only awaken sleeping princesses. To turn a frog into Prince charming, on the other hand, you'll need a maiden's kiss. Sheez, don't you guys ever *read*? Oh, I forgot, you probably don't have books. They're awfully expensive, aren't they? And if you ever had any you've probably used them to keep your house warm in the winter."  
  
  
  
Both the twins and their little brother turned bright red to match their hair colour and scowled at the pale Slytherin, looking like they might want to rip out some of his vital inner organs with their teeth. Draco smirked. 'Hah, take that you little weasles!' Some Slytherins snickered in the background.  
  
  
  
"Dwaycoh Maphoy!" Harry said, and was once again surprised to find that everyone was looking at him. He wondered vaguely what on earth was so fascinating, but finally decided he didn't really care enough to bother finding out.  
  
  
  
"Poor thing, he must be hungry," Parvati Patil said. She glanced briefly at her wrist watch. "It's dinner time anyway, so you might as well take him down to the great hall."  
  
  
  
At the mentioning of 'dinner', every student in the hallway, with the exception of the three baby sitters, vanished. It's strange with students, they're almost like sheep, spending their days eating and doing whatever the leader does. Even the Weasley twins disappeared, to Draco's great relief.  
  
  
  
He removed Harry gently from Hermione's arms, and began to walk towards the stairs which lead down to the great hall before she could protest. However, he had barely taken two steps before a big hand grabbed his shoulder and forced him to turn around.  
  
  
  
"And *where* do you think you're going?" asked Ron Weasley, in a dangerously calm voice. "Need I remind you that this," he pointed at Harry, "is all *your* fault? I don't know what Dumbledore was thinking, but you're not the only one in charge of Harry, and we need to get a few things straight before you take him anywhere, capiche?"  
  
"Capish!" Harry said, and giggled.  
  
Draco merely stared at him. He vaguely wondered why Crabbe and Goyle hadn't thrown him out of a window yet, before he remembered that they were probably down in the great hall eating right now. 'Traitors,' he thought to himself with a sulky edge to his inner voice. He raised his thin eye brows, and faked a politely interested look, not even bothering to do it properly. "Yes?"  
  
  
  
Ron drew his breath dramatically. Hermione rolled her eyes. "First of all, we're *all* in charge of him. Not just you, but *all* three of us."  
  
Draco yawned.  
  
"Secondly, you're the one who messed things up in the first place. It's your fault that Harry is a baby!"  
  
"Hawwy is a baby," said Harry, looking like the personification of innocence and serenity.  
  
"I don't trust you one bit," Ron said, "I never have and I never will. To tell you the truth I'm a little surprised you even wanted to be his baby sitter in the first place. You don't even *like* Harry, for cryin' out loud!"  
  
"Well, this is different!" Draco said, feeling he ought to defend himself.  
  
"Different? What are you talking about?"  
  
"He's... different! It just is. And besides, he likes me."  
  
Ron snorted, "nobody likes you Malfoy."  
  
"How come he keeps saying my name then?" Draco asked smugly, ignoring Ron's tasteless comment.  
  
"Because it's such a funny name, I suppose. And I bet you're planning to hand him over to your father or something as soon as you get the chance!"  
  
Draco looked genuinely surprised. He hadn't even thought of that. Of course, now that the weasel mentioned it, it was a brilliant idea. To take advantage of Potter while he was... well, three years old. He would be such an easy victim, completely defenceless...  
  
  
  
As I have mentioned earlier in this story, Ron Weasley was no fool. And at this moment, it dawned to him that he'd just given his least favorite person in the world an idea. He could almost hear Malfoy's mind working...  
  
  
  
"No, wait, I-I didn't mean it like that," he said quickly. "I just meant that... Malfoy, don't even think about it!"  
  
Draco laughed a short, high-pitched laughter, "I didn't. Until you mentioned it."  
  
  
  
"You mean that wasn't your intension all along?" Hermione asked. Draco snorted, "no.  
  
How can you accuse me of-" he stopped abruptly in mid-sentence as he turned to look at the little boy. The little boy who was supposed to be sitting in his arms, but for some reason wasn't.  
  
  
  
He was gone...  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
If you asked me a question, or said (wrote, I mean) something I feel I should explain or correct, then you'll be listed here, I wrote this when I'd gotten 94 reviews so if you reviewed after that you'll have to wait 'til next chapter gets out:  
  
(Helen: thank you to the first who reviewed second chapter!) (mandraco: thank you! And no, I haven't underestimated anyone. You must also remember that you haven't read more than three chapters and that there's so much more to come! There's only been a few fours since Harry... changed) (Aziraphael: thank you! And there you go boys & girls, the story where Snape turns into a 15 year old, is called: 'my name's Severus', read it people!) (tez: oh wow thank you! I'm flattered ^_^ ) (CrystalStar Guardian: thank you so much *blushes*! I've read your stories, and if you say I'm a awesome writer then that's probably the best compliment you can give me!) (Relle: yay! Finally another Harry worshipper! There's far too few of them out there!) (Lady FoxFire: thank you, you are a genious! I didn't even think of that. I'd forgotten all about those two) (bwaybaby79: thank you! Yes, I'm a big fan of Pratchett, and I'm actually sort of flattered you noticed it ^_^ ) 


	4. Why you shouldn't trust strangers who ca...

Authors note: Hiya! Sorry I got this one out a little late (now there's an understatement). I've been on a holiday, you see. Several holidays, actually... During these holidays I did some researching, just to make sure, and you people who seems to think that all three year olds can talk, and also happen to be quite the chatterboxes the lot of them, are wrong. Kids are different. Some can talk almost perfectly, some can talk a little, and some of them just keeps following you around and repeats everything you say. So there ya go! Now why was I telling you this again? Oh, right, because little Harry will be doing some talking of his own in this chapter. And I'm so happy you're worried about him! That must mean you care at least a little bit about him, mustn't it? And thank you so much for your reviews! I never imagined I'd get this many ever... And they're all so nice! I'm not saying 'thank you' just to say it, I truly, honestly mean it.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter. 4 -Why you shouldn't trust strangers who can walk through doors...  
  
  
  
"You idiot! How could you let this happen?! This is all your fault!" Ron's angry voice echoed trough the empty hallways (the mass of students who usually filled them were all down in the great hall eating dinner) as the three baby sitters rounded a corner, or: 'yet another corner' since there was rather many of them, and it felt like they had rounded every single one.  
  
"*My*- fault?!" Draco's usually pale face was red and sweaty from all the running, his hair was a disaster and each breath sounded like a desperate struggle for air. He somehow managed to keep a conversation between these desperate gasps, don't ask me how. "Excuse me but-" -pant- "I didn't- hear any of *you* saying:- 'oh look-" -huff, puff- "look Harry is disappearing!'" -huff, heave- "I didn't hear that!"  
  
"Well, neither of us were *carrying* him! You ought to have noticed *something*!" It was quite obvious that this day was not one of Ron's better days, and he was, just as obviously, not going to give up a good fight.  
  
"Yeah? Well you were standing in front of me, looking straight at me, weren't you? *You're* the ones who ought to have noticed!"  
  
They stopped (for no apparent reason) at the bottom of a staircase which could only be seen at Friday evenings by angry people who had just been running (yes, Hogwarts is indeed a marvelous place). Draco instantly slumped down with his back against the wall, panting as though he had just run a marathon (which he had, in a way). Hermione bendt over with her arms on her knees for support, and her hair like a big curly bush on top of her exceptionally intelligent head.  
  
"Listen," she said, "he can't have gotten very far. After all he's just a little baby with short legs and big clothes. I mean, I'm pretty sure there are certain limits..." her voice trailed off as the staircase suddenly disappeared in a wisp of purple smoke (this staircase was in fact also another staircase which could only be seen at Friday evenings at the other end of the castle, and it had just went off to scare the shit out of a couple of first years who had lost themselves, looking for the great hall).  
  
Draco wiped his forehead gracelessly with the back of his sleeve.  
  
"So basically all we have to do is place ourselves in his situation and imagine where we'd go?" said Ron. Hermione nodded. "Exactly. But that might be easier said than done..."  
  
"Well, we have better hurry up and find him," Ron said, "it's a big place, and he might get hurt." Hermione snorted, "or get in trouble. He's a genious when it comes to that."  
  
"Does this mean more running?" Draco asked meekly from his corner where he'd crumpled up with a cramped leg and a miserable look. "Yes!" Ron was about to drag him up to his feet, when Draco raised his hands and proclaimed that if 'that freckle-faced weasel' so much as touched him, he'd cut him like a fish and feed him to Hagrid's blast ended screwts.  
  
"Wouldn't it be better if we split up?" he suggested, before 'the freckle- faced weasel' got the time to come up with a line, or just simply break his jaw. "You know, this would go so much faster if we could search several areas at the same time." Hermione sighed slowly, and looked like she was thinking very hard about this suggestion. "Fine," she finally said, after a moment. "I'll start down in the great hall and work my way up, Ron you can take the corridors and the classrooms, and Malfoy can search the dungeons."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
In the mean time, Harry Potter, the famous child everyone (or rather his three baby sitters) were looking for, was half walking half crawling down a corridor in a very different part of the castle. Not that he couldn't walk, but it was a bit difficult when he kept tripping on his over sized jeans.  
  
He had no idea where he was, but truth to be told, he didn't care.  
  
The most interesting question was perhaps *how* he'd gotten there, wherever it was. He wasn't quite sure about that either.  
  
The place he was currently at, or rather: the corridor which he was currently in, appeared to have been made for the sole purpose of scaring away the students. The walls were dark, almost black, and slimy (they weren't actually slimy, but these walls had always *wanted* to be slimy, so they pretended they were, just for fun). It was very quiet, and being there gave you a strange feeling of hollowness. There were no windows or portraits of any sort, and no carpets on the cold stone floors. In fact it was a rather boring corridor, except that it was so spooky, of course.  
  
But Harry paid no attention to the walls, whatsoever. Impossible as though it may seem, he had spotted something interesting. A door. A large, heavy door made out of either iron, or very dark wood. He would've guessed for the latter option if he had been old enough to bother, but since he wasn't he merely thought of it as another common, completely ordinary, average door.  
  
As he aproached said door, he was mildly surprised when a transparent shape with a faint silvery glow around the edges floated trough it without having to open it first. It was a ghost. A small, unpretty man in an utterly ridiculous outfit.  
  
Peeves...  
  
Needless to say the ghost was no less surprised than the child, if not more. He had often made fun of the first years for being small, but this was absurd! He raised his silvery eyebrows (which had definetly not been plucked, and probably never even seen a pair of tweezers before) in genuine surprise, and for a moment he hang in midair without moving or saying a word.  
  
Harry stared at him with large, emerald eyes, and was practically oozing of innocence and childish curiosity. Suddenly he tripped on the hem of his jeans and fell. He landed on his bottom, struggled a little to get back up and shook his head before once again directing his gaze at the poltergeist.  
  
Peeves stared back. He found himself being oddly fascinated by this creature. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen such a young 'living one'...  
  
"Hewwo, wha's youw name?" Harry asked shyly, and tugged a lock of his hair tightly in his little hand, as though he thought he might get braver by doing so. He wasn't very old yet, but he knew (or at least he was pretty sure) that most people couldn't just walk trough doors like that, and that it might be prudent to show some respect to the ones who could. At least to begin with.  
  
A nasty grin spread itself on Peeves' ugly se-through face. "My name is Peeves the poltergeist," he said kindly and smiled like a shark. "Who are you, teenie-weenie little thingsy-wingsy?"  
  
Harry giggled. The strange man used funny words! "Dwaycoh Maphoy!" he said, and clapped his little hands happily.  
  
Peeves' grin widened. "Dwaycoh?" he said, "do you want to know what's behind this door?"  
  
Harry nodded uncertainly, slightly disappointed that the PeeWee-man hadn't used any funny words this time. "Uh-huh..."  
  
"But I can't tell you what it is... That's a surprise!" Peeves whispered. "You'll have to go and have a look for yourself!"  
  
Harry aproached the door confidently, walked straight into it with a 'thud', fell on his bottom, struggled a little to get back up, wiped his hands on his T-shirt and did it all over again. Peeves shook his head and floated up to the little boy, trying very hard not to burst out laughing, all the while feeling even more fascinated by the little thing.  
  
"No no no!" he said, as Harry rubbed his forehead. It would probably leave a bruise. "Why is little-bitty living-thing trying to walk through the door?" "Yoo di'," Harry muttered, wondering whether he was going to cry or not. He decided not to. "Ah, but uncle Peeves is not a living thingy, he's a ghost, you see," Peeves explained patiently. "Itsy-bitsy Dwaycoh must *open* the door first, and *then* go through it!"  
  
Harry had to stand on his toes in order to reach the door knob, and even then he could barely touch it with his finger tips. Eventually he managed to jump up and cling on to it, giggling excitedly as the door creaked slowly open (probably more out of surprise than because Harry was actually strong or heavy enough to move the handle).  
  
"Good boy," purred Peeves. "Now, go and see what's inside!"  
  
Harry sucked his thumb, looking uncharacteristically thoughtful for someone still too young to watch an average Disney-movie. "Awe yoo comin' too?" he asked, only barely remembering to take out the thumb before speaking. Peeves hesitated. Unexpected question unexpected question unexpected question... "Sure!" he said, not remembering to think before speaking. Harry's adorable little face brightened up.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"'Draco search the dungeons!' 'Draco, search the dungeons!'" Draco's miserable expression had changed into that of anger and sulkyness. He had been searching the dungeons for almost ten whole minutes, and he was starting to get incredibly bored...  
  
This search had so far awarded him with a lost first year who thought he was in the hospital wing, a toad who looked remarkably like Neville Longbottoms', the one he always lost, and yet another first year (this one wasn't lost though, she was, in fact, searching for the Slyhterins common room. Kind of weird really, Draco thought, since she was in Ravenclaw), and no Harry...  
  
"Ok... if I was a baby where would I go?" he muttered to himself, as he stared at the portrait of a pretty young lady with a blank look, as though he wasn't actually seing her. "To the library maybe?" she suggested, obviously not used with being overseen by young men. "Why would I go the library?" Draco asked, still in the same muttering-to-myself voice, as though he thought he might have come up with the idea all by himself. "Er... because there would be many books you could... drool on? Ok, never mind that one! Try the kitchen instead." Draco stared at her, and at the same time straight through her, for a moment before he finally seemed to snap out of the thinking-trance-state. "A-hah!" he exclaimed triumphantly. "I'll go look in the kitchen!" And with that, he turned his back and disappeared in the opposite direction of where the kitchen was. The pretty young lady in the painting sighed heavily and shook her head, "men...!"  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
It wasn't the first time Peeves the poltergeist had felt like a complete idiot. He did most of the time, actually. But for some reason the feeling was slightly stronger at the current moment. It might have had something to do with the fact that he was floating beside a very small, very young and definetly very cute 'living-thing' whom he'd just tricked into going into a very dangerous room, but who knows? There might have been other reasons as well.  
  
Behind the door there was yet another long dark and slimy corridor (only these walls were slimy for real, and not just pretending they were for show) which opened up in the end, widened out and became a room. A room which was not meant for anyone to enter... Well, except for ghosts and poltergeists of course, since nothing can harm what is already dead (yeah yeah, I know the Bassilisk managed to do so in the second book, but there's not going to be a Bassilisk in the room, so that's irrelevant)  
  
"Lookie!" Harry said, his low-pitched voice filled to the brim with excitement, as he pointed a small finger at the room. "Thewe's a woom... I's vewy dawk. Why is i' dawk?" He said something more, but Peeves wasn't able to make out the words properly. Due to the darkness it was almost impossible to make out where the room began and where it ended, but if you listened closely and carefully with your senses, you might just be able to get a vague impression. This latter option will of course be just as impossible as the first for whoever reads this, and I shall therefore reveal to you that it was a large room. A very large room actually. Figures it has to be, concidering what it contains. It is not a very beautiful room, and perhaps that is why it was chosen?  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
In a very different part of the castle, a long, lanky-looking character was walking (awfully slowly) down a corridor, where the walls had been decorated with beautiful portraits. He did not look happy. From time to time he'd bend down and whisper: "Harry? Where are you? Come out, come out, wherever you are!" and other similar phrases.  
  
He was really worried about his young friend, and was becoming increasingly convinced that said friend was playing hide-and-seek with him and his fellow baby sitters.  
  
He was also worried about Malfoy. Very worried about Malfoy, as a matter of fact... Why did he have to stick his repulsive face into this? He didn't even like Harry! And now he'd volounteered to be his baby sitter... It just didn't make any sense! Just as Draco concidered Ron to be a very unintelligent being, Ron concidered Draco to be a very unintelligent being, but this was too absurd. Malfoy did say he'd never intended to hurt Harry, or in any way take advantage of his reduced size and age... But could they trust him? Ron, for one (hey, that rhymes!), did not. He was fed up with Draco Malfoy and his oh-so hilarious sense of humor, and wasn't about to trust the bloody git with his best friend.  
  
"I've gotta find Harry before *he* does!" he muttered to himself, and quickened his pace.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Just as Ron said this, Filch ran past the door that Harry and Peeves had just gone in through, and said some words I shall not repeat here. He looked as mean and ugly as ever, and his equally repulsive cat, Mrs. Norris, was running faithfully by his side.  
  
Filch had been given the main responsibility of making sure no student went in through the door (the door Harry and Peeves had just went in through), and that what was behind the door didn't come out through it. This task sounded pretty simple, and it turned out to be not so much simple as just plain boring, untill Peeves, Filch's life long arch enemy, stole the keys to the before-mentioned door, and hid them. The worst thing about this was probably that Filch had not been able to lock the door before Peeves showed up, and that he was forced to leave the door unlocked while searching.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Harry yawned. He was starting to feel tired, and he couldn't see what was so fascinating about this room anyway. In fact, he wasn't able to see much at all. Actually he couldn't see a damn thing. How boring. The Pee-Wee man was hovering a few inches above the ground, his small eyes darting restlessly from dark spot to dark spot to yet another dark spot. "Where *is* it?" he muttered to himself from time to time. Harry wanted to ask him what 'it' was, and why exactly he wanted to know 'its' location so badly, but he didn't ask.  
  
Suddenly his attention was drawn to a glowing light only a few feet away from where they were standing, and he could hear a low pitched snarling. At first there was only one, but then suddenly a second light appeared right next to the first.  
  
It dawned to the little boy that they were eyes. Kind of yellow-reddish, he figured after a while. Although he didn't know it himself his eyesight was rather poor, and he was able to make out even less in the darkness than Peeves, or any other kid with normal eyesight was. However, he was not blind, and he was quite able to see that the eyes were slowly aproaching him...  
  
He turned to the Pee-Wee man, but realised that he was gone. He looked around and saw the silvery shape floating high up, right underneath where he figured the ceiling must be. Harry didn't cry. He wasn't frightened. Not really. On the contrary he was, although vaguely curious about what kind of creature the eyes belonged to, bored, and starting to feel increasingly sleepy. He missed Dwaycoh Maphoy...  
  
He noticed that a pair of similar eyes had appeared next to the first two, but seemed to somehow be attached to a completely different head. He wasn't surprised by this. Not even when yet another identical pair of glowing, yellow-reddish eyes appeared, making it a total of 6 glowing, yellow- reddish eyes, all directed at him.  
  
Three gigantic heads lowered slowly downwards. Their heads were so close to the floor that they got dust in their noses whenever they drew a breath, that's how small little Harry was compared to them. He did, however, have quite an interesting smell...  
  
Harry yawned. This was no fun. He reached out a small hand and touched something moist and soft barely a few inches from him. He didn't ask himself what it was, or why it hadn't been there three minutes ago. Perhaps it would make a nice pillow? He yawned a second time and allowed himself to fall against it.  
  
Just as he did so, one of the heads gasped (we will never know why I'm afraid, nor will we ever find out how it did it, since huge, three-headed beasts don't gasp. Cuz they just can't, ok?), drew in too much dust, sneezed and sendt a now increasingly excited Harry tumbling accross the floor and straight into a hole in the wall (it would later turn out to be a ventilation shaft).  
  
Peeves the poltergeist blinked. He blinked again. "Oh." he said.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Master must please go now, t'is no baby here, goodbye." Draco struggled to break free, as a dozen house elves tried to push him out through the portrait hole. "But I have to find him!" Draco insisted, raising his arm to comb his fingers through his hair. He didn't notice the house elf who'd been clutching onto the arm before he raised it, a little too quickly, and sendt it flying across the kitchen. No one seemed to care. "Yes, yes, bye-bye now. T'is no baby here, Master must go look elsewhere."  
  
The house elves had been sending up extra portions of dinner when Draco had made his entrée, and they hadn't been very happy with being disturbed while doing their job. Draco wasn't very happy with disturbing them either. He couldn't stand house elves. They were like filth, and nasty things you could crush under your shoes for fun. Kinda like the Weasleys, he'd always thought.  
  
Now, as we all know, certain things have a habit of happening at the exact right moment. At least it's always like that in the movies. Although it's probably just to save time and money, it's quite funny when it actually happens in the real life. This was one of those moments...  
  
Just as Draco turned to leave, something small and black came flying out the ventilation shaft. It flew through the air in a lovely arch and landed soundlessly in a large salad bowl on the nearest table. Draco was just able to make out a pair of big, gleaming, green eyes and a cheerful "Dwaycoh Maphoy!", before everything on the table disappeared with a 'swish'.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Authors note: sorry for making such a stupid chapter ^_^ Bet ya can't guess who the three-headed beast was!  
  
If any of you asked me a question or said something in your review that I feel I ought to explain, you'll find my answers here. I wrote this when I'd gotten 120 reviews, so if you reviewed after that, you'll not be featured here in this chapter and will have to wait for the next: [Venus4280: thank you, you were the first to review the third chapter! I hope you liked this chapter better, since Harry said many things. Hope you'll keep reading!] [Snake Eyes: thank you! 'Oh my Goddess', huh? I sense we have a feminist among us ^_^ I'm so happy you like my little Harry! And I'm seriously considering your idea, but I'll have to see how this story turns out first before I can say anything for certain.] [Isa: thank you! YAY!!! Another Harry worshipper!!! Keep it up!!!] [me: thank you! I was out first with this idea, you say? That's wonderful news! But like I said, I haven't read any of these fics, so I wouldn't know. I really thought I was the first to come up with this...] [Prophetess Of Hearts: thank you! Haven't you read 'Hogwarts a history'? You can't apparate or disapparate inside Hogwarts grounds. I'll tell you how he got away someday, when I come up with something ^_^] [Relle: thank you! I'm so glad you found my story, and I'm touched by the fact that you even tried. I hope my story will live up to your expectations! I promise I'll do my best!] [Amanda: thank you! And there's no need to worry, because I will finish this story.] [Klee: thank you! Wow, thank you, I'm flattered *blushes*... Yes, 'Monsters.Inc' was great, wasn't it? Hope you enjoyed this chapter as well, and that you'll keep reading!] [hanfan: thank you! I'm so glad you liked it! Hope my English teacher feels the same way about my writing as you do...!] [Bucky: thank you! Of course Ginny'll be in the story, don't worry! And I'm sorry about the updating-thing, but I've been soooo busy lately. Hope you can forgive me...?]  
  
PS: I just have to tell you this, I got top grades in English!!! Both my writing, reading and speaking was 'almost as perfect as can be'!!! Can you imagine that? D'you know how hard that is? I'm so happy!! 


	5. Salad à la Harry Potter

Authors waste of space: Such a pity they've forbidden NC-17 rated fics, doncha think? Some of my favorite stories have that rating... But, of course, I kinda see why they're doing it, even though I have a few thousand better ideas myself. Fortunatly I won't have to delete anything, but I might just do it anyway, if I'm in a bad mood.  
  
I have a question for the audience, what is the purpose of those stupid grammar sheets teachers provide us non-English kids with? Especially since we went through it last year, and the year before that, and probably the year before that too but I don't have that kind of memory-span (you know, blondes...). They're such a waste of time!  
  
As for the story, I'm so happy you all think Harry is cute. I think so too. I even think he's adorable in those fics where Malfoy is elvish or half veela and the author spends about two and a half page describing him, and- oh, right, that would include me (read "The decision" and you'll see what I mean. Boy, I had some serious issues with my dad when I wrote that!)- I still spend the whole time thinking of Harry...  
  
As for a little more for the story, I'm letting Harry speak a little more often now, because it's fun. Two original characters are also mentioned once in this chapter, but never mind them cuz you'll never see them again.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter. 5 -Salad à la Harry Potter  
  
To Ginny Weasley it had been quite an ordinary day. Or at least as ordinary as a day can be at a boarding school where the students are taught how to ride broomsticks and turn their fellow students into badgers (not that there's anything wrong with badgers, of course). She hadn't been feeling well lately, and had instead of going to classes spendt most of the day in the Gryffindor common room. She knew nothing of the days' events, and had no idea the love of her life had turned into a baby. Had she listened to the any of the conversations that were going on around her she might have figured it out, but she was too busy trying not to be sick all over (and let us all be happy for that).  
  
Dinner was almost over, and second portions of potatoes and salad were starting to pop up. Suddenly, just as she was staring at an empty spot on the table, concentrating very hard on not being sick, a salad bowl appeared right before her. Something small was sitting in it. Something that might have been a doll, had it not been giggling and throwing lettuce in the air. It was a child...  
  
Ginny blinked. She rubbed her eyes, stared at it, then blinked again. Nope, it was still there. She glanced at the others. A girl, Aggie Schmith, who was in the middle of a conversation with another girl, Hester Fryfield, turned halfway to her, still talking, and said: "Ginny, could you pass me the-" here she stopped and just stared as though she wasn't quite sure she believed what she was seing. "-salad?" she finished meekly. Hester Fryfield spotted it too and shut her mouth abruptly. Slowly, silence spread through the Gryffindor table as everyone stopped whatever they were doing and turned to stare at the child in the salad bowl.  
  
Seamus Finnigan was the first to speak. "Er..." he said. Just as he said 'er...', Lavender Brown squealed. A glass shattered somewhere in the background (oh come on, it was bound to happen sooner or later!). A few people winced and rubbed their ears tenderly.  
  
The adorable little doll in the salad bowl was still playing with the vegetables as though nothing had happened, or at least nothing out of the ordinary. And let's face it: the fact that there was a child in the salad bowl that popped right out of nowhere ought to be no more shocking than the fact that a salad bowl popped right out of nowhere in the first place. For some reason, the only one who came to this conclution was... well, me, actually (yeah, yeah, I know I'm smart. Can I have a cookie?)  
  
Little Harry suddenly realised he was at the center of attention... again. Shyly he covered his face with a large, green lettuce, hoping in some kind of subconscious way that they wouldn't be able to see him as long as he couldn't see them. He clutched it firmly in his little hands even as Seamus Finnigan lifted him carefully out of the bowl.  
  
"Hi there Harry," he said fondly, and grinned. Harry giggled. Ginny stiffened. "Where are your baby sitters, huh?" "Maybe they took him to the kitchens?" Dean Thomas suggested with a shrug. "Yeah, or maybe Malfoy put him there on purpose so we would eat him," Fred Weasley muttered darkly. "There's a possibility!" George said cheerfully.  
  
As if on cue Malfoy chose that exact moment to stumble into the great hall, looking, altogether not too dramatic, even though his cloak was billowing slightly. 'I'm gonna have a heart attack!' he thought, as he struggled to fill his lungs with enough air, for the general purpose of preventing himself from suffocating. He was fighting a losing battle... But the only thing that mattered was Harry (this sudden concern would later cost him quite a few hours of his precious sleep... Wow! At this rate he'll be suffering from insomnia before I'm halfway through the story!)  
  
  
  
  
  
In the mean time, Hermione was getting impatient and increasingly worried. Her current location was three floors above Malfoys current location, and her theories of how small children moved *their* current locations were beginning to sound stupid even to her...  
  
Obviously, Harry Potter was quite able to move his location rather far away from hers, despite his short legs and the over sized clothes.  
  
"Accio Harry," she muttered, as a half-joke to herself (yes, there is a certain sort of people who will find this amusing, however strange it may seem to others), while she stared thoughtfully at her wand. How on earth had Malfoy managed to lose him? Sure, Harry was small, even for his age, but still... And why had Malfoy volonteered to baby-sit his supposedly worst enemy anyway, if not to bring him to You-Know-Who?  
  
However, it didn't seem like Harry minded having Malfoy around. Quite 'au contraire' really.  
  
At this moment, we must keep in mind that Hermione was pretty much lost in her own, no doubt unbelievably fascinating little world inside her own head, and therefore had no idea she was in fact standing right behind a door. Now it will come as a surprise to none that this door opened outwards. Nor will it come as a shock that someone at the other side of the door chose that moment to slam it open and knock Hermione unconscious, without meaning to... (See girls? Now *that's* what happens to ye if ye think too much!)  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Have you seen one, or not?!" Ron was fuming. Peeves was having the time of his life (or after-life, whatever).  
  
"Hmmm... Maybe Peeves see baby," said Peeves, pretending to be thinking hard, "is baby itty-bitty small?"  
  
Ron nodded, "yes, yes, very small, he can't talk, at least not much. Dunno if he can walk properly though..." he added, as it dawned to him that he had no idea whether Harry actually *could* walk.  
  
Now, something truly amazing happened. Something which had never happened before. Peeves the poltergeist, who, neither in his life nor his after life, had ever produced a single intelligent thought, understood...  
  
He understood, and he knew who Ron was looking for! It had to be Dwaycoh Maphoy, the tiny little living-thingy with the large, green eyes and the black hair. The fascinating little creature who kept walking into doors and stumbled in his own clothes and spoke almost without drawing breath. The sweet, trusty little boy whom he had tricked into...  
  
"Does it say 'Dwaycoh Maphoy' alot?" he asked, very slowly (still rather amazed by the fact that he had actually reached a conclution, which also, wonders upon wonders, happened to be correct).  
  
"YES!!!" Ron clapped his hands joyfully, "that's him! That's the one I'm looking for!"  
  
"Never heard of it!" Peeves muttered quickly, with a nervous twitching in the corner of his eyes. No sooner had he uttered the sentence before he spun around and began to float towards the door.  
  
Ron opened and closed his mouth, looking rather much like a gold fish. "But- but you- you said..." he trailed off, then after exactly 2.5 seconds he bolted after Peeves. He reached the door, just as the poltergeist floated through it, he didn't bother fumbling with the handle like some nancy-boy, he slammed it open like a manly man!  
  
He heard a 'thud', and then an omnious sense of foreboding, which he suddenly developed there and then, telling him he'd hit something, made him peek behind the door. And, whaddya know, he had indeed hit something. Or, to be more accurate: someone...  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Ginny was in shock. Not that anybody noticed, they were all too busy marvelling over little Harry, who refused to eat. Malfoy had decided it was time for him to eat, but this was mostly because he felt an insane urge to make all the decisions for the little one himself without the other two knowing it.  
  
Well, she most definetly needed to make a stand for what she considered an appropriate age-difference in a relationship...  
  
Harry was smiling, looking almost unbearably cute, and spat out every piece of nourishment they manged to put in his mouth. Malfoy, who wasn't exactly the embodiedment of patience, had given up after 5 minutes and let Seamus Finnigan have a try. And then Neville had tried the old method with the airplane-spoon, which of course didn't work, because it never does.  
  
Ginny was sitting by herself, looking rather miserable, watching them. She wondered how they could act so calm, as if nothing was wrong. She now noticed for the first time that neither Hermione, nor Ron was present.  
  
She found it hard to believe that her brother would intentionally leave his best friend in the arms of Draco Malfoy, perhaps he'd been cursed? Maybe, she thought, he was laying in some dark cupboard somewhere, all tied up and gagged, and maybe even unconscious!  
  
However, frightening as though this thought seemed to her, she felt no immediate urge to go look for him. She was in fact far more concerned about Harry. Colin Creevy had started taking pictures of him now, and Ginny expected Harry'd be walking around with a paper bag over his head when he, er, grew up... again. Knowing Colin, he'd probably try to make Harry sign the photos too, as if simply looking at them wouldn't embarasing enough.  
  
Harry was starting to look a bit unhappy as well. Or rather he was starting to look sleepy, which meant that he was bored. And Harry wasn't happy when he was bored.  
  
He didn't like all the faces staring at him either, especially not when they tried to stuff bits and pieces of... -well, whatever it was (it smelled fishy to him anyway) down his throath. He'd done all he could think of (which eventually came down to the grand total of *one* idea) to demonstrate his dislike for this, but they didn't seem to take the hint. So, obviously, he kept spitting it out.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Professor Snape always looked dramatic when he walked. He couldn't help it, no more than Dumbledore, but he rather enjoyed the effect it had on people. Of course, he could simply stop wearing long cloaks, but asking a wizard to stop wearing long cloaks that billowed when they walked would be like asking a parrot to quit wearing coloured feathers. It was part of who they were.  
  
Anyway, my point was that Snape was walking down the hall. Or at least it was a hall. Whether it was *The* hall is a matter of discussion, I guess.  
  
He was looking a bit sour, thinking about frogs (the happy, colourful and extremely poisonous sort). Until he saw something very bizarre. It was Ron Weasley, carrying what looked suspiciously like Hermione Granger in his arms. He looked very pale, and a bit nervous, and obviously hadn't noticed that Snape was watching him yet, or he'd probably have been beyond what one might describe as 'nervous'.  
  
Snape was tempted to be about his business as if he'd seen nothing out of the ordinary (or so he kept telling himself anyway), but it was his duty as a teacher (not to mention his duty as the head of the rivalling house) to find out what was going on.  
  
It was to little Potter's best too, he decided, as the two Gryffindors were supposed to be looking after him right now, not lurking aorund looking all pale and nervous and carrying each other...  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Bit short this one I think. Since I didn't get *that* many reviews on chapter 4, I've answered them all:  
  
(Fire Spirit: thank you! My first reviewer for the fourth chapter! Yay!) (Lady FoxFire: thank you! Yeah, the thing in the dark room was Fluffy, unless they have other three-headed dogs lurking around in that school. You can never be certain. And I haven't forgotten my promise about "The decision" either, but I have no idea where I'm going with it, so I'd be thrilled if you had any ideas...?) (Phoenix: thank you! *blushes* hope you liked this chapter too!) (Bucky: thank you! You have such a cute name, d'you know that? I hope you noticed that I put Ginny in this chapter, because I wrote her into it specially for you!) (Steena413: thank you! Congratulations for submitting your first review, I'm truly honored that you liked my fic!) (Prophetess of Hearts: thank you! Ah, you're right of course about the reading-thingy, my mistake... So I wrote a small piece for you about what happens to girls who think too much as an apology! It's probably dead boring anyway *yawn*) (emma: thank you! You really think so? Hope you'll keep enjoying it!) (Gia: thank you! Tee-hee, I thought of it all by myself ^_^) (Bienfoy: thank you! So glad you think Harry is cute!) (Sarelle: thank you! Yeah, I ought to make a fic about myself some day *LOL* You lost it again you say? Hmm, search for 'Pepsi' on authors and then head for the one who's written 4 fics, that's me. See ya in the next chapter then ^_^) (stormyfire: thank you! Harry will always be a sweetheart *sigh*, at least to me he is.) (Isa: thank you! Woo-hoo, another Harry worshipper! YAY! Love you 4ever girl! May you live a long happy life!) 


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